I’ve just picked the first apricots off the scraggly little tree in my yard. The entire crop will be about a couple dozen apricots – most will go to the birds. And that’s fine with me. But the taste of that real, that fresh apricot took me back to the wonderful tree that Dad planted at the family house in Lakeside, California.
When I was planning to leave California and rent out the house, my nephew asked if I would be okay emotionally letting others live in the house that up until then had sheltered only family. My response was that I could let the house go, but I was a little choked up about leaving the apricot tree. It was about 35 years old, pruned to a perfect bowl shape and every year produced a huge crop of apricots. They were almost too fragile to transport – it was better to graze. Pick and eat immediately. The best!
Turns out 35 years is old for an apricot tree and it was beginning to fail. After I moved away, the limbs just gave out and the tree had to be removed. I’m so glad I wasn’t there to see it go. I’ll admit it – I’m sentimental about that tree. How about you? Is there a tree that affects you deeply?